above the stars everything seems dark

blooming night

blooming in the night
I shine
with all of my senses
I'm awake
and hidden at the time
of breaking your de/fences

I'm whole and hollow at night -
an artist and a muse.
it's hard to leave my feelings behind
and that's an illusion.

I love the fake faces, they keep me alive;
they make me grow fonder of people.
because I'm afraid of what I might find
if I look sreaight through their egos.

so, fake facades let it be,
even if obvious,
I would try my hardest to believe
that their faces poisonous
wouldn't hurt me all the same
like they did already.

"it's normal probably, let's say
I just wasn't ready"
"We were young, it was doomed
from the main beginning"
"It was sweet, but it had bloomed
earlier than planned"
"It was underthought and rushed
through the time of roses;
it was harsh and blunt and hushed;
you just couldn't hold it
all together,
you fell apart
and you bled on people
who did nothing of the harm
of the one who slid you"

sun rays through light clouds
on a summer morning
slightly hot air in my the lungs
and the night is blooming

deep breaths. warmth on the face;
the thoughts are pursuing
eachother in a never-ending race
while the night is blooming.

13.02.2024